Jumble
by notthetoothfairy
Summary: Blaine runs into Kurt. Literally. (written for the Klaine Advent 2015, prompt word "jumble")


**_A/N: Beta'ed/supported by a-simple-rainbow. :)_**

* * *

A quick look at the clock tells Blaine he really needs to hurry if he wants to finish printing his essay _and_ make it to his next class on time. Actually, a quick look isn't even necessary because Sam keeps telling him what time is it in that ridiculous countdown robot voice he's been toying around with for the past week.

"Ten – minutes – remaining," Sam announces just as Blaine sends the document to the printer.

"Yes, Sam I know," Blaine says exasperatedly, packing his bag while trying to keep an eye on the nearby printers to see if his document is ready.

There's a few people in line trying to collect their own print-outs, and Blaine just wants to cry.

"This is why I need a printer at home," he mumbles, shouldering his backpack and making his way over to the small crowd.

Sam chuckles. "You'd get too lonely, dude. All your instruments are at home, you barely use any of the music rooms here, and how are you supposed to meet someone if you don't mingle with the people?"

"Who _meets_ people at a print station?" Blaine asks incredulously.

"I'm just looking out for you, Blaine," Sam says. "You've been single for too long, you're getting cynical."

Blaine eyes him suspiciously. "Don't you dare to set me up on a date with anyone in here." He spots his print-out in the mix and makes a quick grab for it, barely dodging a random elbow from someone who's clearly trying to do the same. "See?" he continues when they're out of earshot. "This is not the place to exchange pleasantries."

"All I see is a cynical thief of other people's print-outs," Sam says, nodding to the paper Blaine is holding.

"Thief, what-" Blaine starts to say but lets out a deep sigh when he reads the name _Kurt Hummel_ on the top half of the first page. "Dammit."

"Well, I'm clearly right about everything today so I'm probably right about you needing to meet people, too-"

"Sam, please," Blaine begs, glancing at the clock again and realizing he's only got about five minutes to get to the classroom which is all the way across the building. He turns around to face the mess at the printer again.

"Dude, I'm just saying, true love is around the cor-"

"Ouch!"

"Aah, motherf-!"

Blaine doesn't have time to process what's happening but he does realize he should probably not swear loudly in a room full of people who hopefully still think he's the dapper guy they know from their lit class or something.

Though the situation is embarrassing enough already to make a lasting impression if anyone he knows does see him. He's sprawled on the floor, the 10 pages of the paper he'd been holding scattered around him in a jumble on the floor, the guy he collided with sitting across from him, rubbing his forehead where it bumped against Blaine's a second earlier.

"Sorry," Blaine mutters, quickly collecting the pages.

"'s okay," the guy says, sitting up on his knees to bend over towards Blaine and help him grab some of the pages. "Wait- why does this have my name on it?"

Blaine blinks, confused for a second, before he spots the wrong name on the paper again.

"Oh- uh," he stammers. "You're Kurt?"

"In the flesh," the guy – Kurt – says, raising an eyebrow. "And you are…?"

"I'm…" Blaine stops, taking in Kurt's stern expression. He gulps. "Most definitely the guy who was just about to return the paper he accidentally stole from you because he's very much _not_ into plagiarism."

The crease between Kurt's brows softens a little when he answers and the corners of his lips twitch up in an amused smile. "Sounds convincing."

"Really, though, I was gonna put it back and grab my own," Blaine says. "I was in a hurry, and- wait, is that _my_ paper?"

Kurt's eyes widen as he looks down at the stack of paper he's holding. "Oops."

"Guess we're even," Blaine says smugly. "Even though you clearly didn't put in as much work into your apology as I did."

Kurt grins. "What can I say? You're not into _plagiarism_ , I'm not into getting _caught_ plagiarizing – potatoes, po _tah_ toes, really."

Blaine laughs. At least he collided with someone who clearly sports a nice sense of humor.

Actually, he sports a nice everything.

The sudden realization that Kurt is really attractive makes Blaine's conversation skills disappear from the face of earth in about a millisecond.

He stops laughing, and goes back to collecting the pages while he tries to come up with something clever to say, his brain going into overdrive. He hasn't had a boyfriend in two years and his flirting skills are really rusty, how is he supposed to-

"Intro to Acting, huh?" Kurt asks, and well, there goes Blaine's chance of a witty retort.

"How do you-" Blaine starts, and stops right away when he sees that Kurt is reading the first page of his paper. No need to be Captain Obvious. "Oh, yeah."

"Are you a major?"

Blaine blinks. "A major what?"

Kurt stares at him.

Above them, Sam makes a frustrated noise. "No, he isn't. His name is Blaine and he is a music composition major when he's not being a major _tool_ but he must have forgotten all of that when his head knocked against yours."

Oh, if only the floor would swallow Blaine whole.

"Jeez," he says, chuckling self-consciously. He's getting more embarrassed by the second and the eye roll Sam is directing at him isn't making things any better. "Sorry, no, it's an elective. Why, are you an acting major?"

"Nope," Kurt says, letting the _p_ pop. "Don't even go to this school, actually."

"Oh. What are you doing here then?"

"Besides making conversation on the floor because the guy who stole my paper doesn't seem to be keen on giving it back?" Kurt quips but shakes his head when Blaine immediately tries to hand him his stuff. "Relax, I'm kidding. I go to NYADA, I major in vocal performance. Acting is part of the gig, though, and we're allowed to take some electives at NYU." He points to his paper in Blaine's lap. "That's why I'm taking an Improv class."

Kurt really must be acing that class, Blaine thinks. He strikes him as the type of person who's quick to think on their feet.

"Nah, I'm mediocre at best," Kurt says, and Blaine realizes he spoke out loud.

No wonder he's single if his brain can't get a grip just because he's talking to some guy who happens to be cute. Blaine hopes he didn't say that out loud as well but he seems to be in luck because nobody comments on it.

Though the silence is starting to get awkward and it's probably because Blaine hasn't said anything.

"Well, I have to get going in a few," Kurt says, and it almost sounds a bit reluctant. "I hate to be _that_ guy but I really do need my paper back."

"Oh, yeah, right," Blaine mumbles, and looks at the pile he collected from the floor. "I'm sorry, they're probably all in the wrong order now."

"Don't worry," Kurt says and flashes him a mischievous smile as he mixes Blaine's papers quickly. "There. Now we're even."

Blaine hangs his head and smiles to himself.

"Um," Sam says a little awkwardly, "I also hate to be _that_ guy but you're really late for class, Blaine."

"Oh, fuck," Blaine breathes out, and while he berates himself a little for cursing he also figures Kurt has already seen him at his most pathetic and he's probably – _sadly_ – not going to see much of him anyway if he doesn't go to NYU, so an apology probably isn't needed. "I guess I have to run."

"Nice meeting you, Blaine, and….?" Kurt trails off, twisting his head to look up at Sam.

"Sam. Nice to meet you, too."

"Right, nice to meet you," Blaine says as he gets up. "Bye, Kurt."

He's already almost out of the door when Kurt calls out, "Blaine!"

Oh, maybe Blaine is dreaming and this is like in the movies when someone calls out for the protagonist and he turns around and-

"We still haven't exchanged," Kurt says, holding out Blaine's paper.

Blaine sighs dejectedly, and hands Kurt his. "Sorry, I'm… I'm not always this slow."

"It's okay," Kurt says with a little smile. "We did have a pretty bad collision. Maybe you should get your head checked."

Oh, good, so Kurt's blaming the collision. At least one of them isn't aware of how painfully single he is.

"Right. You, too," Blaine says. "Yeah, so, uh… nice meeting you, and I hope nobody steals anything else of yours."

Kurt crosses his arms so that his paper is smashed flat against his chest.

"I'll protect it with my life," he says with a crooked grin.

"Blaine, if you don't hurry, your prof is going to skin you alive," Sam calls out from the door.

"Right," Blaine says. "Bye, Kurt."

"See ya."

As soon as they're out of the room, Sam turns to him with a triumphant smile on his face.

"I was right!" he exclaims. "Meeting people in the computer lab is totally possible!"

Blaine groans in response.

* * *

Sam doesn't let it go for the rest of the week.

Blaine's brain isn't, either, even though he tries his best to just forget about it. After all, it was a random collision with a randomly nice, good-looking, witty guy who Blaine randomly, accidentally swapped papers with and who was also very randomly nice enough not to comment on Blaine's lack of game.

Ugh. His thoughts are in a jumble.

But… it was so random.

Wasn't it random?

Maybe a bit too random. Maybe it was meant to be.

Blaine wishes he had been forward enough to ask for Kurt's number because whatever it was – random, meant to be, fate, destiny, _totally adorable_ if he goes along with Sam's choice of words – it's also over and he might not see Kurt again.

He tells Sam as much when they're sitting in the computer lab again two weeks later and his best friend won't shut up about it.

"You totally think he's cute, though, right?" Sam asks for the umpteenth time.

"Yes, Sam," Blaine groans, as he's done every time he's been asked, "but can we please, _please_ let it pass?"

"Why?" Sam asks, clearly frustrated with Blaine. "You haven't met anyone new in months and this guy's worth a shot, right?"

"Where would I even meet him again?" Blaine asks.

Sam shrugs. "Here."

"Right," Blaine groans. "And even if I do meet him here again – we both know I'm too awkward to just talk to him. What should I do? Wait for him to print something and write down my number on the top page so he'll call me?"

Sam's head snaps up at Blaine. "Dude, genius!"

"Sam, no."

Sam grins. "Yes."

"No."

"Come on, you've got nothing to lose! You said it yourself, he doesn't go here, you don't have to see him all the time and if he doesn't want to make use of your number, he won't!"

"I don't…" Blaine sighs. "Isn't it sort of rude to just slip people your number?"

"Come on, he looked like he wanted to keep talking."

"He isn't even here, can we plan this sometime else?" Blaine asks, trying to focus on the finishing touches on his paper.

"Or is he?" Sam retorts happily, and Blaine doesn't even need to look up to know that Kurt just walked into the room.

Oh lordy.

* * *

He's going to do it.

Any minute now, Kurt will be print something (why else would he be here?) and Blaine is going to stop pretending to be waiting for his own. He'll write down his number on Kurt's document with a little B and smiley face so Kurt can make of it what he wants and then he's going to get the hell out of there and obsess over it for the next… well, however long it takes Kurt to text him, if he actually decides to do it.

He just hopes Kurt is distracted enough by his work not to spot him lingering next to the printer awkwardly.

Oh god, this plan is really pathetic, isn't it?

He's on the verge of turning back around when he sees Kurt pushing his chair off the table and getting up to fetch his copies.

Blaine snatches the next paper that comes out of the printer – Sondheim sheet music, nice – and jots down his number, the B and a little lopsided smiley face (but he doesn't have time to make it more pretty so he just leaves it), and heads for the door.

"Stealing people's papers again?" Kurt's voice pipes up behind him.

 _Noooo._

Blaine closes his eyes in horror, before opening them and exchanging a mortified look with Sam – well, Blaine looks mortified, Sam looks _ecstatic_ – and turning around to face Kurt.

"Hi, uhm," Blaine says. _Come on, Blaine, be more articulate. You can do it._ He takes a breath, hopefully deep enough for him to gather some courage and small enough for Kurt not too notice how nervous he is. "I guess I could ask you the same."

 _Yes, there we go._

"Well," Kurt says, mouth stretching into a smile, "I'm printing sheet music this time so unless you have a better idea for my voice lesson than Sondheim…? I will be happy to swap mine for-"

"Top 40," he cuts in. And cringes. Somehow he doesn't think he'll impress a vocal performance major with top 40 as a choice for his repertoire. But Kurt was about to point at the paper in his hand and, god forbid, _look_ at it, and Blaine tried to be quick on his feet for once as well.

He should probably take that Improv class.

Kurt shakes his head. "As much as I value the opinion of a composer, I'm fairly certain my professor wouldn't appreciate the admittedly otherwise alluring appeal of Taylor Swift."

Blaine manages a shy smile. At least they could bond over liking Taylor Swift, then.

"Uh, so…" Kurt scratches his neck. "I've been thinking… and, um- since we were so bad at exchanging papers the other day… maybe we should practice? Like, exchange… other stuff."

Blaine blinks. Exchange… pleasantries, houses, spit, what?

Whatever it is, it's gotten Kurt visibly flustered, and he's so happy to not be the only one for a change that he blurts out, "Yeah, anything."

Kurt flushes a little. "Anything," he echoes. "Um, well, let's… start with phone numbers, maybe?"

"Sure," Blaine says, grinning happily. And remembers. And pauses. "Oh, actually." He giggles despite himself. "This is going to be awkward."

"Why?" Kurt asks, a curious but excited smile on his face. "Do you not own a phone? Do I have to contact you via smoke signals?"

Blaine chuckles. "No, um… well, you'll think I'm a stalker. My friend Sam," Blaine points to Sam who raises his hand in a quick, surprised wave, "he convinced me to do this thing where I wait for you to print something and… leave my number on it."

Kurt looks down on his sheet music – stares at it for a long while, actually, long enough for Blaine to start to sweat in anticipation of his reaction – and suddenly lets out a loud, barking laugh.

"Oh my god," he gasps. "You're not for real, are you?!"

"I can't decipher that reaction," Blaine tells him honestly because, really, it's been working so far so maybe Kurt is really peculiar and doesn't mind how much of a major tool Blaine's being (and then again, Sam already covered that little detail during their last conversation). "Is that leaning more towards, 'Okay, yeah, I can see where you were going with this and I can roll with it,' or towards, 'Get me the hell away from this loser?'"

Kurt grins at him brightly. "It's more of a, 'I need to figure out if he's always this adorable because if so, I would really like to ask him out on a date'."

And, yeah, Blaine's pretty sure his heart skips a beat.

"Well," he answers, and he's almost certain that he nails the flirtatious tone even though he doesn't have a clue what he's doing, "you already have my number, so…"

Kurt fixes him with a playful glare. "And you think I was going to ask you out via text message? I had a plan to ask you to _hang out_ first and then after a few successful times of doing just that, I was going to work up the courage to invite you to dinner or something like that."

"Or something like that," Blaine repeats, his smile growing bigger at the thought of Kurt _planning_ what to do with him. "So are we skipping the hanging out part…?"

Kurt shrugs but it doesn't look as nonchalant as he probably intends it to be, and Blaine revels a little bit in that.

"I guess now that things are all on the table, we couldn't possibly hang out without the implication of a date just sort of… being there."

"Sounds like it's unavoidable, then," Blaine says, going for mock-disappointment but ending up smiling so hard his cheeks are threatening to fall off. "If a bit unconventional."

"Well, our first meeting hasn't been all that conventional, has it?"

"My friend Sam thinks it's totally normal to meet new people in the computer lab," Blaine counters.

"Well, then it's probably totally normal for me to ask you to just give me an answer to my question already? Because you still haven't said yes."

"Oh," Blaine says inanely. "I thought that was implied."

"So it's a yes?"

"It's a yes," Blaine repeats happily. "It's a hell yes, actually."

Kurt's eyes are sparkling as he grabs Blaine's print-out and his pen from his hands and writes down his own number at a corner of the paper.

"Just in case," he tells Blaine with an almost shy smile.

"Finally," Sam groans from the desk he's still sitting at, giving both of them a thumbs up when they flick him off at the same time.

Blaine has a feeling his best friend is not going to let him live this down but he couldn't care less because he just scored a number _and_ a date, and maybe if he's playing his cards right, even a boyfriend, so he's just going to let Sam have this one.

(They never stop being a bit of an unconventional couple but Blaine figures he can absolutely live with it if it means that Blaine can kiss Kurt for a good two minutes before their first date has even officially started and that, roughly seven years later, Kurt proposes to Blaine by writing the question down on Blaine's latest composition, a little B with a plus and K and a little ring and a smiley face after the "equals" sign. Blaine scribbles down a "hell yes" and proceeds to kiss his newly-acquired fiancé senseless before moving things to the bedroom.)


End file.
